Shine
by Whispering Sands
Summary: All he requires is a little push. [Tōshirō/Rangiku]


**Title** - Shine.  
**Genre** - Romance.  
**Characters** - Tōshirō Hitsugaya + Rangiku Matsumoto.  
**Rating** - M.

**Author**: Whispering Sands.  
**Note**: This is something sweet and light-hearted. I've written many other stories on them before on another account, which is _shattered petal_. I have another account so not everything is clogged up on one profile. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and feedback is much appreciated. Warning - there _is_ a lemon, but it isn't detailed at all.

* * *

The kettle was boiling.

And that was when it all fell into place. In some ways, Rangiku thought the situation was funny. Such a simple, domestic event had triggered so many revelations and feelings. At first, she didn't quite know how to respond. Should she feel _ashamed_ that it had taken her this long? Or, should she just feel _shocked_ it happened anyway? Glancing over at Tōshirō, she believed he wasn't sharing her thoughts, because what she was thinking was surely _below_ him.

Tōshirō would insist there were more _pressing_ matters of concern. It was cruel to say all Tōshirō thought about was work, and all he ever did was _work_. That wasn't true. Rangiku was defensive of her Captain. She struggled to tolerate the crude remarks about his work-ethic, how cold and distant he was around others. Yes, he was distant, and cold too, but he had a heart. A large, warm, _loving_ heart which only bloomed for those who _deserved_ to be embraced by his true, honest self.

Yet that didn't necessarily mean he was _open_ all the time. He wasn't moody as such, but he was do distracted with reality to _care_ about emotions like sadness and love. When he was younger, he had trained himself harshly to _overcome_ these hindering and, allegedly, _useless_ emotions. Now, as an older, leaner and smarter man, Tōshirō had succeeded in achieving his aim. For the most part. It had been admirable, watching her Captain mature through the years, but, no matter what happened, their unique and fierce bond was never broken.

Everything about them had been intimate from the start. Tōshirō was never _young_. He might have had the appearance of a teen boy, but he was always older than her. At least, personality-wise and such. Age didn't matter. She was more than one-hundred years his senior, but no one would be able to tell. They were so different, but so _similar_. Their differences were what made them a perfect army of their own. Together, they could handle almost anything. No, Tōshirō believed _nothing_ could pass the Tenth Division, and she had a feeling his confidence was only as it was because of her.

They had fought together, achieved a great deal, but, once the office doors were closed and they were off-duty, their friendship shone. Tōshirō wouldn't really acknowledge it. At least, he would never approach Rangiku and exclaim how _wonderful_ their friendship was. But their friendship was special. Rangiku had bought him his clothes and food, shared his bed, ate with him, ranted to him about past lovers and life in general, and he was the first person she approached when in need of comfort. Tōshirō wasn't always affectionate, but with Rangiku, it was easy and smooth. A delicate yet simple process. She required reassurance, a bit of a scolding, and a reminder that she was _okay_.

With Rangiku, it _was_ easy. The stress was lifted from his heavy shoulders, and he could _talk_ to her. Gossip had it that Rangiku never stopped talking, but Tōshirō didn't take much heed to gossip. Rangiku listened, and offered advice. She was more educated and experienced than he with issues in life. And she enjoyed his company, liked to keep him close, and be there if he needed anything. They spent hours at each other's apartments, either to catch up on work, or for personal reasons. They did everything together, nearly. It became so _normal_.

Normal. Living a normal life had was ugly to Rangiku when she was younger, but now it was a dream. A fantasy. He made her feel _normal_, as if her complications and errors were simple human mistakes and she had the strength to move on. He never pitied or sympathised with her, but he stood by her. That was what she required. She didn't want the dow-eyed apologiser, offering her flowers on a bad day. She wanted someone to stare her down, demand she get over what was bothering her, and continue her life the way she _wanted_. No one defined her.

Tōshirō was not afraid to do that.

It was a Sunday evening. Tomorrow, they would be heading back for work, and she had invited him over so they could plan the week ahead. Both were in her kitchen, and he had leaned past her to grab two mugs for them both, popping a tea bag in each. He knew her kitchen as if it were his own, and he walked around the kitchen as if it were his own. _Their_ own. Her past dates were always hesitant or confused or too confident in her kitchen, but Tōshirō was casual. He treated the place as if it were his home as well. Rangiku could sense his ease, how welcomed he felt in her presence.

How sweet it was that it didn't even occur to Tōshirō what he was doing. His ignorance was a relief, because she was so used to him knowing everything.

'––Matsumoto?'

Rangiku felt her cheeks flush slightly. Had she been daydreaming? 'Captain?'

Tōshirō watched her, a gentle frown creasing his complexions. His eyes were gorgeous, a heavy, furious green that could not be penetrated by anyone. In an instant, he looked away from her. 'The kettle.'

'Oh!' Slightly embarrassed, she grabbed the boiling kettle and poured hot water for them both. Her eyes drifted to the bowl of sugar he passed over to her. Again, casual. He automatically knew she wanted sugar in her tea.

'Did you ever get round to reading the novel I gave you?'

Placing the kettle down, she tried to remember what he was referring to. Then it clicked. 'Ahh...' _Maybe_ she had forgotten. 'Um, half way through!'

'Really?'

'Mm-Hm. It's very gripping; I can't put it down.'

'That explains why it's taken you three months to get that far.'

Rangiku sipped her tea. 'I'm a slow reader.'

'I'll say.' Tōshirō picked up his mug. 'You should read the novel, Matsumoto. I know you're not one for books, but I wouldn't recommend something to you without thought.'

Their eyes met, and his gaze was soft and even slightly amused. Rangiku looked away.

'I know. Just... I'm a slow reader.'

She was tired, he realised. Surprisingly, Rangiku didn't like to make a scene about her feelings but he could tell when something was amiss. 'Do you _read_?'

'Captain!' Rangiku made a noise. 'I–– When I have the time.'

'Meaning "no".'

Pouting, Rangiku had some more of her tea. Fine, if he was going to mock her, than she would prod right back and prove him wrong. 'Let me show you my collection of novels.' Just to add to her annoyance, he raised his eyebrows in shock. It took a lot for Tōshirō to feel surprise, and she felt insulted he doubted she even picked up a book.

Naturally she wasn't a bookworm like her Captain. She had a _life_. But, sitting down to a pleasant story was always nice every now and again. It put her mind off everything, helped her run away from this dark world she had been pulled into. To be away from death and ghosts and pain– what more could she ask for? Yes, she could handle it, but she needed help, and books were a brilliant remedy.

She heard him following her when they left the kitchen. Usually, she would be following him as his right-hand woman. The one who watched his every step, and observed her surroundings, literally protected his back. She had a keen eye and sensitive ear. There had yet to be a time when someone deceived her senses and attacked her Captain before she stopped the opponent.

They reached a small bookcase in the hallway, and she came in close to pick several novels from the shelf to pass to him. Standing beside her, he took them, briefly skimmed his eyes over the blurb, then cocked a brow, judging them. Rangiku wasn't sure if she wanted his approval or not. Their silence was comforting, to say the least. Two soldiers, disarmed, and looking through books. How comical. Tōshirō outstretched his arm and reached for another.

'Ah! You read _King_? I didn't know you were one for horror, Matsumoto.'

'I'm full of surprises,' she smiled sweetly, turning to look at him.

'Forgive me for not sounding amazed at the amount of romance novels.'

'You don't understand literature, Captain, if you're going to shrug off the genre like that.'

'No need to get defensive.'

'No need to get arrogant.'

Tōshirō ran his eyes across the spines of a few other books, before lowering his gaze to meet Rangiku's. Five books were in both of his hands, and he looked rather silly, but his piercing eyes locked her. Tōshirō usually had a gentle look about him when around her, but she secretly was fond of how _stern_ he could look, how fierce and dominating. She couldn't see her reflection in his eyes, they were so full and vibrant. Looking at him, and he watching her, Rangiku felt oddly tense. Her abdomen clenched up, and her shoulders were stiff.

But it was as if they had looked at each other this way for years. Neither had realised until now, though. A startling revelation to an invisible mystery. The kettle boiling, how _normal_ that was, and now, looking at books, meeting each other's gaze, feeling each other's breath, so _normal_. He was older, but she still saw the younger Tōshirō. He still had cheeks from his youthful appearance, and his hair was as white as ever. He had a dimple whenever he smiled crookedly at her, and there were now little lines between his eyebrows whenever he frowned.

It was a relief when he turned towards the bookcase again and replaced the books. So casual. So normal. So _welcomed_ to do so. When he faced her again it was better, she was more prepared to kiss him. Her hand lightly pressed against his chest, and their kiss was a bit too gentle for her at first. Rangiku pushed her into him a little more, her tongue gliding over his lower lip, encouraging him to deepen their buss. He didn't need much help. Their kiss was deep, slow and passionate. Or, that was how she remembered it as being. She remembered how soft his lips were, how his tongue was so unlike his nature, massaging her own, exploring her mouth in an almost timid manner.

She knew he hadn't done this before. Tōshirō didn't notice women or men, and there was a rumour flying around that he was possibly asexual. Of course Rangiku had also been curious. Tōshirō meant everything to her; she wanted to know if he had any urges or relationships he hadn't told her about, but Tōshirō wasn't _that_ secretive. Still, kissing him was amazing. She expected him to be cold, like his zanpakutō spirit, but she barely noticed. She was so used to his freezing temperature; being cold was nothing. Although she was a warm spirit herself, Tōshirō's cool air didn't affect her. She had adjusted to him.

Finally his hands found her body, pressed against her waist and she quietly moaned into his mouth, running her hands through his thick hair. How long had they been waiting for this to happen? Certainly, Rangiku had let her mind trail to kissing her Captain. He was handsome, smart and strong. What could she _not_ like about him? Not only that but they were already close. She had every reason to let her mind wander, but had he with her?

Surely it had, because why would he be kissing her if not?

That question was demolished when he pulled away. Her cheeks felt a little flushed, and she still had her eyes closed, believing he had only broken their kiss to catch his breath. Giving him a second, she then pulled at his collar to kiss him again, but Tōshirō refused.

'I don't think you want this.'

Opening her eyes, Rangiku stared at him. What? 'I...' Her words failed her. Tōshirō was right to pause and hesitate. Their kiss was sudden and unexpected, not planned.

'Why did you do that?'

It was as if he was interrogating her. Rangiku's hands dropped from his collar. 'Because I wanted to.' And she did. She did want to do that. She wanted to kiss and touch him, feel him against her body, and it was nice. They should have done this a long time ago. They had noticed each other for so many years. How could it take them _this_ long to act on their emotions? Rangiku stopped. No, _she_ had acted on her own emotions. Not Tōshirō.

She didn't give the poor man a chance.

_But he kissed me, too_.

His response wasn't anything unusual. Tōshirō dropped his gaze, then looked back at her. After a pause, after some hesitation and a moment to recover, he let the evening continue as normal. As if nothing had happened. _Casually_. Rangiku wondered if this was some sort of self defence, or a kind way of him implying he didn't want to be involved with her. He helped make dinner with her, and they finished their tea, before sitting down to eat and planning the week ahead.

The kiss was never mentioned again that night.

* * *

Silly. How silly and _rude_ of him to ignore what had happened. Rangiku tried to keep her private life away from the office, but how could she when her private life was sitting a metre away? It was stupid she had let her head jog over a _guy_ again. The last time she felt so _peeved_ about a man was with Gin Ichimaru and while he always held a special place in her heart, he was the past. She had stood up and moved on from him. Tōshirō was different; he was nothing like Gin.

For one thing, he was _here_. Eyes on his paperwork, writing away as if everything was how it should be. Rangiku wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. She liked to believe she had known him since he was a baby (despite how _old_ he was as a character). Throwing away what they had just because Tōshirō refused to acknowledge a _kiss_ was ridiculous.

If she wanted him to acknowledge what happened, she needed to shove the matter in his face again. She had kissed quite a few men in her life, but rarely did she come back for more. With Tōshirō, she wanted more. A _lot_ more. There was a reason why she liked how casual he was around her home, how he knew where everything was, how he recognised her expressions and knew what she was feeling before she did. It was simple why.

They were just too damn proud to admit it.

The filed paperwork met his desk with a loud _slam_. Tōshirō looked up at her once, before nodding and returning to work. 'Thank you.'

'Captain?'

'Yes?'

'Do you want to kiss me again?'

The pen stopped. She could hear him breathing, the room was so silent. 'What?'

'Do you want to kiss me again?'

Yes, he could be cold and distant, but he was human. Tōshirō now had his full attention on her. 'Why?'

'You can. If you want.'

Tōshirō frowned.

'You can kiss me.'

'What makes you think I want to?'

'Because I want you to.'

'And that's why I want to kiss you?'

'Yes.'

Leaning back in his seat, Tōshirō watched her, eyes still furrowed. He was looking at her as if he were studying her, as if she were one of his beloved books he kept throwing at her. He was trying to understand, but he was overcomplicating everything. It was clear and simple what Rangiku had asked. All he had to say was "yes" or "no".

Tōshirō hadn't witnessed Rangiku like this before. She was usually bouncy and bubbly, full of life, but once romance and sincere issues were placed on her, she was almost a different person altogether. In a way, it was attractive. Seeing this other side to her excited him in ways he didn't know possible. Her question was difficult, though, and he didn't know how to answer, what to say, what to _think_.

Unbeknownst to Rangiku, their lovely kiss from yesterday had gone round and round in his head constantly.

'Your logic doesn't make sense.'

'Since when have I ever made sense, Captain?'

A pause. Her eyes were beautiful.  
_She_ was beautiful.

'Kiss me.'

'... Why?'

He couldn't do it, she realised. Tōshirō was confident, but he wasn't that confident. He didn't know how to react or respond. He didn't want to hurt her, or push him on her, or make her feel uncomfortable. And he didn't want to harm their reputation together, he didn't want to ruin the image he had as this unemotional bastard. It helped to be an unemotional bastard. No one _dared_ mess with you.

So _she_ kissed him. Her hands were at his face, and she kissed him, instantly letting their tongues meet in some playful fight, and she was winning. Tōshirō could sense her enthusiasm and he was able to respond, his breath shaky when he pulled at her robe. It was blissful, and so soothing for them both, they wondered why they hadn't tried this before. Their lips were perfect together, and he shuddered when she moaned again, his hands running down her chest.

His palms were all over, feeling the curve of her waist, her thighs and when she pulled affectionately at his hair, he shivered again. He felt _alive_, so alive and needed her. He needed her. They kissed and kissed. Rangiku teased him, pulling at his lower lip, and he dared himself to let his lips meet her neck. He loved how she exhaled heavily, how she craned her head back to give him more room for his lips to slide across her smooth skin.

They were forgetting where they were, what they were supposed to be doing. They must have been kissing for nearly half an hour, neither could be certain. Their kisses had become something more, more than passionate, and when they broke away, Tōshirō's lips throbbed. They knew exactly what was on each other's minds, but he was the one who stopped her.

'We can't. Not here.'

'It's okay.' Her voice was light, and he watched while she undid her robe somewhat, reached to remove her underwear. At once he knew what to do, loosening his belt and undergarment. Still clothed she straddled his lap, and they kissed again. She lowered herself for him to enter her, and their lips pulled away momentarily. Rangiku's breath was hot and intimate down his throat, and they stilled.

The office door was closed, so they wouldn't be seen, but even so, no one could tell what they were doing due to how they were covered. She only had to sway a little for him to react. What they were doing was wrong, but neither cared. It brought so much relief to them. It was wonderful. It was _lovely_. She loved how he kissed and touched her, and he loved how she moved against him. His hands held her hips, and their gaze was locked on the other. She moved again, and they were slow, neither wanted to rush, not wanting it to be over.

Finally, after a couple of minutes of silent lovemaking, he found his voice, 'I can't keep denying this to myself: I love you.'

Rangiku wanted to reply, to tell him she felt the same way and how happy she was, but her voice was lost when she came. It didn't take long for Tōshirō to follow, and they kissed again, softly. 'I love you too.'

Bringing his arms around her, Tōshirō pulled her into an embrace, and he was soon smiling at her giggles, both amazed at what they had just done together. A push, that was what he needed. A push to come to realise exactly _what_ he felt for her, why he could be himself around her without feeling judged or frowned at. Rangiku made him feel at home, made him feel special, made him feel loved.

It was good to know, to not lay in ignorance.

It was good to know she loved him, as much as he loved her.


End file.
